Sweet Georgia Belle: Peaches and Cream
by Jade R. Rayne
Summary: [AU- No walkers][BETHYL] A dark 'Pretty Woman' spinoff- 18, young and naive, she fell for a boy who sold her freedom away, and made her into a slave to his, and other's, desires. A year after the first brutality, an unlikely client showed her a first sign of kindness in months. Can she escape her situation with this man, better yet... will she let him help her? MATURE.
1. Broken

**WARNING: EXPLICIT MATERIAL AND VIOLENCE NOT SUITED FOR YOUNG READERS.**

**Disclaimer:** No copyright infringement intended, story is for creative sharing purposes only. All rights of Walking Dead to AMC (I guess).

**J.R.-** As usual, my grammar is not great and I write my stories late at night... please be gentle with the grammar and spelling issues that may be present throughout the chapters. Thanks for reading!

**Sweet Georgia Belle Peaches and Cream**  
_Chapter 1  
[Broken]_

Everyone makes mistakes, but when said mistakes are made and freedom is forfeited, one couldn't help but feel trapped and lonely.

How desperately lonely she was.

It didn't matter what she was doing, who she was doing it with or when—she always felt that it was wrong. She didn't have a choice, though. No, that was a lie, she had a choice. Conflicted, she always had to choose between staying alive and betraying God, or end up dead like her family.

Tonight was one of those nights. She was dressed in her shortest black, sparkling miniskirt and a deep crimson tube top that ended right above her navel. Her once glistening sunshine blond hair is now dull, drenched in hairspray and curled to a mass of blond waves.

She had always disliked the smell of cigarettes and drunks, and yet here she was in a bar waiting for her so called boyfriend to bring her to her next customer. The term 'boyfriend' is very loosely used here. It had started out the way an eighteen year old girl can only dream about—flirty kisses, picnics and harmless fun. That had been two years ago. What started as a beautiful relationship took a turn for the worse after her father died a year after she moved with her boyfriend to New York City.

Just the thought about her beloved daddy brought tears to her blue eyes. She wasn't even allowed to attend the funeral. Instead, that was the night she was forced to become a woman who sold her body for money. It wasn't as if she wanted things to turn out this way, it just happened. They were short on money with their paychecks spent, and heavily in debt. Her boyfriend then suggested her having sex with his boss to get some money for her to travel fees to her hometown and for a promotion.

_ "If you love me, you would do it for me, baby. It'll only be this once, I promise."_

He said it would be the only time; even then she was against it. He slipped roofies into her drink the next night, and well... When she woke up to the soreness between her legs, she knew what had happened. When she confronted him, he swore that was the one and only time she needed to do it. It was a damn lie, that's what it was. Not only did he keep the money, he locked her in their room for days before she was 'allowed' to come out.

Then the beatings came.

The rest is history.

A part of her was grateful he supplied her with a steady stash of condoms at first, but when he started to use the money for meth and heroine, she had to borrow some from the girls or steal them. She wasn't stupid enough to get knocked up and contract some kind of sexually transmitted disease. At least, her customers were the same handful for the past year. Apparently not many men find her small breasts and thin frame and Georgia accent attractive. Her bustier of friends was more sought out than her.

She was thankful she found a couple of good friends out of this ordeal. Tara and Karen, two absolutely beautiful and caring ladies looked out for her … they were also in the same shitty situation—sold. When Jeff had borrowed and owed so much money to a gang, he had 'sold' her to save his own sorry life. Whatever money she made from this ordeal, half went to repay his debt and the other half for his own personal use. And no one wanted to save a homeless, family-less girl.

Beth let out a sigh and gripped her drink tightly in her hands—she hated to think about it as much as she hated living. She tried once… dying. But in the end, Jeff 'saved' her and had beaten the pride out of her. Since then, six months ago, she stopped resisting.

"I got you a new one," his voice stirred up anger in her. She quickly dampened it, knowing fully well if he saw that anger or spark of anything in her eyes, he'll just beat her.

"A new one? I thought you said it was going to be routine today," she sighed, sipping her drink.

"Does it matter? Get your ass in that car and give me the fucking money tomorrow, bitch," he stepped close behind her, and gripped her arms painfully tight. From another person's view, he may have been looking affectionate and concerned, his words were anything but. "I don't give a damn what you think about taking a new one. I need a damn fix tomorrow and you better get me the money or I'm going to spread all your dirty little secrets to your hometown. Now, you wouldn't want that right, sugar? Black Mercedes, 5 minutes. Git," he shoved her towards the direction of the restrooms and slapped her butt hard.

She didn't bother to argue—it wouldn't do her any good. "'kay."

It didn't long for her to freshen up and stand on the curb in front of the club like a hooker. She laughed bitterly to herself, that's exactly what she is—a prostitute.

The flawless black Mercedes pulled up in front of her seconds later, the front passenger window rolled down, showing a highly attractive and well-dressed lady in the driver's seat. "Get in the back," she ordered without glancing at her and proceeded to roll the window back up.

Beth slipped into the back seat, her skirt riding up to the top of her thighs, barely covering her private. Without another word exchanged, the car started to drive to a location. A part of her hoped she was being kidnapped. Death would be her only salvation, she thought. The car soon stopped in front of one of a prestigious hotel. She knew it well… most of her clientele preferred high classed hotels to support prostitution.

"Put this on, go to the fifteenth floor, room 1509," the lady in the driver's seat tossed a black trench coat at her and tossed her the keypass. "Make sure you shower first," she hissed, pinching her nose shut.

"Yes ma'am," Beth replied with a bit too much sass. Not bothering to hear the lady's response, she slipped on the coat and secured it tight. She was grateful for that, even though she was in this profession, she still had some modesty left. The moment she entered the lobby, she knew what the receptionists were thinking… them and everyone else.

_Whore, slut, skank._ She knew those names too well.

With her chin held high, she dodged the wayward glances and headed for the stairwell. She knew better than to use the elevator. The trip to the fifteenth floor was exhausting, never had she gone up that far before. Usually it was the fifth or sixth, but never above tenth. This must be an important person.

_Well, at least I'll get some sleep tonight from all this exercise_, she grinned. She prayed for days where she could sleep undisturbed for at least four hours. Those days rarely happened. As soon as she stepped into the stairwell, a bellhop stood by the door of room 1509 and casted her a wary glance.

She ignored it and glaring at him; she slid her key into port and slipped into the room.

_Holy cow_, the room—no suite, looked like something from the cover of an upscale magazine. _This must definitely be an important person_, she mused. Locating the bathroom, she felt genuinely excited at the thought of using a freshly cleaned bathroom—that was utmost rare in her situation. She stripped herself of her dirty clothes and turned on the shower head.

Moans of ecstasy slipped passed her lips as the warm water soothed her aching body. Massaging her arms and legs with the soap, she moved her way up to wash her hair, but decided against it. It may ruin her makeup. Guys like these preferred people like her with skanky looking hair and makeup—it excited them.

She didn't know how long she was in the shower, in fact she didn't notice what the time was until her fingers started to prune and shrivel. She panicked—guys like these didn't want to waste their time and often deducted money for simple mistakes like these. Less money often meant more beatings, and that was something she desperately wanted to avoid. Jumping out of the shower, she quickly wrapped a soft towel around her and scurried out the bathroom.

"You took your sweet damn time didn't you?" she heard a rusty, deep baritone voice coming from the direction of the bedroom.

She made her way, cautiously to the bedroom, stepping through the sliding doors with her head forward, saving herself from looking at her customer. She learned her lesson from looking into their eyes, hoping they'll save her. All they would do is fuck her and move on. That's what they all did, and this man with the attractive voice would be no different.

"Sorry," she whispered, keeping her gaze down. She made her way to the large king bed, letting the body towel fall, she laid in the middle of the bed and closed her eyes. She guessed he didn't even bother to shut off the lights before he was on top of her.

His scruffy beard scraped against her skin, judging by its roughness, she assumed it to be a short one. After all, successful businessmen hardly had long beards. It didn't take long for him to spread her legs apart, groping at her womanhood and her breasts. His touches almost felt tender, but she knew better to link emotions with sex. She heard the familiar sound of a condom wrapper tearing and mentally kicked herself for forgetting the most important thing she could do for herself. She blamed the amazing shower for making her forget, but all thoughts escaped her mind when she felt him push into her, sending both pain and pleasure up her spine.

Normally, she would try to ignore it and lay still, but he felt different—she didn't know to explain it but she knew she would have a hard time trying to ignore the pleasure pulsating from her sex. The way he filled her, so completely, she couldn't ignore the way her body began to ache for him.

No, she had to focus. She couldn't bear to shoulder the disappointment of indifference of her customers anymore. She moved her head to her side and swallowed a moan, thinking about anything but the pleasure building in her lower pelvis. She thought about her father, their family farm, and the veterinary clinic her father once ran. She thought about her old high school friends, and wondered if they were married or have any children. She had always wanted children. The more the merrier. She thought… she and Jeff were going to be married with children, but how naïve she was.

Her thoughts soon evaporated her mind as he thrusted harder and painfully deep into her. She stifled a pained moan and stiffened her body, guarding herself for more pain. This normally did happen when she wasn't prepped properly. Ninety percent of the time, sex had always hurt… and had only had an orgasm once. Once in two years. Sadly enough, that was with the use of a vibrator and when no males were involved.

A few more painful jerks from his hips, he went rigidity as he finished his task. He laid stiff atop of her for a few seconds, catching his breath before rolling off of her. She continued to keep her eyes closed until she felt him leave the bed. The door of the bathroom clicked shut, signaling her that the task was done.

Cracking an eye open, she scanned the nightstand to the right of her, where he got off of. Sure enough, the distinct color of green bills glistened under the lamp. She reached over and grabbed the bills, but regretted the motion when a burning pain caused her to stiffen.

_Ughh, that'll hurt for at least a day_, she groaned to herself, knowing the sensation well. It had happen during the beginning when the customers were frequent and rough, but since she had lost weight and looked almost scrawny, she attracted customers who were less… well endowed. Except for this one, of course. Steeling herself against the pain, she sat up on the soft bed and pulled the bills to her lap. She counted the bills, one, two, three, four… five _one-hundred_ dollar bills.

Her jaw dropped—five hundred dollars. Wow. She did a double take, counting the money again. Sure enough, the count didn't change. She didn't expect any man could pay five hundred dollars for less than an hour's worth of time. Her worries of another beating disintegrated. With this amount of money, Jeff would probably even treat her to a good dinner. Maybe.

The door to the bathroom opened, and in came her customer. She made the mistake and looked up without thinking, catching a glance of his features. He was a very, very attractive man. He must be around his late thirties, she assumed. Steel blue eyes, rusty dark brown long hair, slicked back with water and a few specks of grey in his beard. There were wrinkles, but it fitted him along with the hollow expression in his eyes. It almost mimicked hers.

Neither one exchanged words, but he casted her a brief nod and grabbed his suit jacket before slipping out the suite door.

Beth exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding, and flopped onto her back, causing the bed to bounce with the action. "Well, at least I get to stay in this room for the night," she grinned. Sometimes, the customers would leave as soon as they were done and she was free to do whatever she wanted in the room.

The thought of another shower… no, a steaming hot bath made all her stress disappear. She tucked the money under the small digital clock atop the nightstand and headed towards the bathroom. A knock on the door stopped her in her tracks. She glanced down to only find herself naked and quickly pulled a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around her body.

She didn't bother looking through the eyehole to see who it was—she just assumed it would be her customer who forgot something here or the lady she saw earlier. When she opened the door, she took a step back in terror. "J-Jeff? What are you doing here?"

The stench of alcohol emitted heavily from his breath. "Where the money at?" He growled, leaning against the door frame for support.

"It's… on the nightstand," she whispered, taking another step back. She noticed the blood and swelling on his eyebrow and knew exactly what had happened. He most likely wanted a fix and didn't have money… used the drug and never paid. And now, now that he was here… she wasn't safe from his abuse.

"Well go get it bitch," he growled, shoving her backwards by her shoulders. He slammed the door shut and snatched the hair on the back of her head and hauled her roughly into the suite.

Despite her screams of pain and pleads for him to stop, he didn't. With her head in his hands, he stomped into the bedroom with her in tow, and snatched the money. "How much is in here?"

"Five…" Beth replied as best as she could through the searing pain on scalp.

"I need you to fuck another one tonight, I owe Big Mikey seven fifty," he hissed, releasing her hair and pushed her face towards the bed, causing her to trip and fall.

"Another? I can't… I need some time in between—," she was unable to finish her sentence when he pounced on top of her, ripping the towel off of her, and pinned her hands besides her head. "No, no, please Jeff! I can't, it hurts!"

"Does it fucking look like I care?" He began to unbuckle his belt, pushing apart her legs with his knees.

"Jeff, PLEASE STOP!" she cried, struggling against his tight grip. Her pleas fell on death ears when he straddled on top of her, already thrusting roughly in her despite her cries.

Unknowingly to them, the door to the suite opened.

Beth continued to scream, her voice growing hoarse, as the pain of her tearing into two took over her. "Please, stop… please," she cried, large tears slipping from the corner of her eyes. Jeff wouldn't have any of it. He slammed his fist into the right side of her face, above her eyebrow several times in attempts to silence her.

Before she could register what was happening, Jeff was roughly lifted up off of her. He groaned in pain when she heard a rustle of clothing and what sounded like a fist punching against soft flesh. Sure enough, when she was able to open her eyes through the pain, her customer… the man with the hollow eyes was landing blows of his fist onto Jeff's face.

"Stop, stop!" Jeff's hands flew up in defense, briefly stopping her customer in his rage. "What are you doing man?" he stumbled to stand on his legs, hunched over the side of the bed.

"You were raping this woman, _that's_ what's wrong you fucker," he spat, his chest heaving.

"She's my girlfriend! And, it's none of your damn business. I need some more money tonight and she ain't gonna make some more. I hav'ta discipline her somehow," Jeff hissed, his face contorted into an aggressive scowl.

"How much can she owe you for you to treat a woman this way?" Her customer hissed, reaching into his back pocket.

"Two fifty. That's just two more fucks, it's easy money. She enjoys being on her back and making money, don't ya sugar," Jeff directed his attention to Beth.

Beth dared not to speak; instead she covered her sobs with the discarded towel and attempted to shield her body from the two aggressive males.

Her customer yanked his wallet out of his pocket and tossed some bills at Jeff's feet. "Leave her the fuck alone for a couple of days, yeah?"

Jeff stared at the bills discarded at his feet, and grinned appreciatively at her customer, "Will do, partner. She's all yours for the next two days. Good luck with her, it took me six months to break her damn spirit." Bending down clumsily, he collected his money and stumbled towards the door, not bothering to cast another glance at Beth or the man.

Beth looked away when her customer turned around, both alone now. A part of her dreaded having to use her body one more time for the night—she was too badly abused and emotionally drained to do anything but lay down and wallow in misery and pain. She flinched instantaneously when the man shifted and started to head towards the bar of the suite. Her stiff flinch caused him to freeze in his steps; his gaze lingered on her before finally taking another step towards his destination.

She began to fear what was to come afterwards. She assumed he was going to get himself a drink, possibly get himself drunk and then have his way with her. Either way—she was powerless. She could escape, and had done so many times before… or at least tried to. Jeff and Big Mickey's goonies always found her and brought her back before beating her into a blood pulp.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize the man was sitting in front of her until he pressed something cold against her right eyebrow. Briefly, she recoiled at the contact, but the cold relief of ice soothed some of her pain away.

"Keep it on there or it'll bruise," she heard him say in his deep tone.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. After a long silence, she dared to question his next motive. "What… are you wanting me to do next?"

"Nothing, as far as I'm concerned," he cleared his throat and scooted away further away from her on the bed. "Should go take a bath or something, it'll help with the pain."

Beth looked up, shocked. Was he really going to let her be? She couldn't find any signs of deception in his eyes, and she had gotten with skilled with detecting lies from the last year. She couldn't exchange any other words with him. Her eyes welled up in tears; some of them had already fallen from her eyes. She bowed her head in shame and embarrassment. It would take someone witnessing a rape of a person to be kinder to them, wouldn't it? It was a bitter thought, but pain… misery and disappointment were the only things that were consistent with her life as of late.

He placed a card in front of her, but she didn't move or care to acknowledge it. He shifted in his seat before standing up with a sign, adjusting his suit and sleeves, he began heading towards the door. "Stay here for a couple of days… and… don't open the door for anyone but room service. Even then, you have to be careful. I'll tell my assistant to bill me the tab… don't worry about it," his voice rasped cautiously before disappearing into the hallway with the click of the door.

The moment the door clicked shut, the dam that was holding her tears at bay broke, and she was tossed into a crying fit. Her hands clenched together in front of her chest, trying to ease the pain that had built up in her heart. She was grateful, as she cried that no one was there to witness her weakest point.

She hated it all, her life, her situation, her father for leaving her and her sister running away. She was all alone in this world, with no kin to call and ask for help. Even then, if she did… Jeff and his friends would never let her off… and they would hurt her loved ones too.

That was the only thing that kept her from running back to her family farm. If he knew she had the deed under her name, he would take it and sell it to anyone at any price if it meant he could have another fix. The only highlight of her life in the past two years was the vision of Jeff getting pummeled by her most recent customer.

It was definitely a sight for sore eyes, and for now, she was safe. Maybe for a couple of days, she will be. With the money Jeff got, he probably will be all stocked up and high for at least three days. She couldn't count it all, but she saw at least another six bills, twenties or hundreds, she wasn't too sure.

And all this from a stranger. She gingerly picked up the business card he had placed onto the bed in front of her. All it had on there was a name and a phone number right under it.

She tested his name on her lips through watery eyes and thanked the Lord for the grace of this man named, "Daryl Dixon."

/

**J.R.-** yeah, it's a little dark... but I don't know why… I couldn't sleep and this plot had been stuck in my head the entire time. Can't promise the chapters will be 4k words all the time, but I'm not quite sure if this story will be a long chaptered story. Haven't figured it out that far yet.

Please review! Thanks for reading!


	2. Alleyway Bar

**Warning: Explicit cursing**

**Sweet Georgia Belle Peaches and Cream**  
_Chapter 2  
[Alleyway Bar]_

Daryl chewed on the tip of his thumb, angrily waiting for his brother to pick up the phone. It was the fourth time calling his damn brother, and still the damn boy wouldn't answer. He had every mind to drive up to his place and barging into his room and haul his sorry ass from between a whore's legs. He knew that's what he was doing now—no doubt about it. After all, it was what got him into his current predicament.

"It'll be fun he said, it's gonna make that stick from up your ass disappear he said. Fucking motherfucker. Gonna skin you alive when I get my hands on you," Daryl hissed as he mocked his brother with contempt.

He was about to hang up until the receiver of the other line picked up.

_"Lil' bro! You done already? Man, here's me thinking you gonna rut all night!"_ the voice laughed merrily from the other line.

"Fuck, Merle! What the fuck were you thinking in hiring me a fucking prostitute?! You know that shit's illegal?!" Daryl flew into a rage, throwing his hands into the air before slamming his fists against the steering wheel. The air within his car grew dozens of degrees hotter, or at least that's what it felt like.

_"What the fuck are you talking about, baby brother? You didn't like her?"_

"FUCK, I fucking thought she was an escort like you said. I went to the fucking desk after… after _that_ to pay for the fucking room and arrange for the car to go the fucking event with her. Then I find her being fucking raped by her own boyfriend. What the fuck Merle?! The bastard said everything I needed to know about her. She's a fucking prostitute! How the hell you gonna do me like that, _brother?!_"

_"Whoa, whoa now Darylena. The management I spoke to said she was an escort… I's got fooled into this too. I'm gonna find his ass set things right. You feel better now?"_

"No. 'Cus the shit's been done and gone after I tossed him some money to get gone and leave the girl alone. FUCK, MERLE!" Daryl ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "She don't even look like she's fucking legal now that I'm thinking about it. Just about how much shit are you going to get me into before you straighten the fuck up? I'm a fucking cradlerobber if she ain't old enough! We're in this business together, but fuck Merle. I'm doing all the fucking work and you're fucking messing 'round all the time!"

_"Don't get your panties in a bunch, baby bro,"_ his voice sounded constrained albeit apologetic as well. _"I made sure I saw her I.D. She's definitely legal for sure brother. I know I fucking screwed up, 'kay? But I ain't never screwed up so fucking bad that it'll put you in harm's way. No one knows about this but you, me and the girl and that faggot I spoke to. That's it. No one says a word and you're good to go, baby bro."_

Daryl sighed through clenched teeth. He was tired of fixing his brother's mistakes. Actually, this mistake was his own… he should've known better. The way she just laid there, devoid of emotion. He never met an escort like that. Damn, he felt like shit.

_"Daryl?"_

"Yeah?" He responded in a weary tone, suddenly all energy and life from him drained away. He was thoroughly exhausted. He spent the past four hours looking for the girl after she disappeared from the hotel room. He wasn't about to report the assault. Fuck, she would've been arrested along with the both of them even if she was the victim. Today's society holds women accountable for deeds they couldn't even control. He pitied her.

_ "Where is the girl now? Do we gotta keep her mouth shut?" _

"Nah," Daryl immediately shut down the idea. He knew Merle worked in rough ways which sometimes were illegal. He didn't want to invite anymore trouble. "Just let it be. If it surfaces in the future, we can play victim too. I gotta go man." He didn't bother to let his brother answer before hanging up, then tossing the phone onto the seat next to his.

Fuck, he thought. Everywhere he spotted a girl with blond hair, he thought of her and her devoid-of-life piercing sky blue eyes. That was all that stood out to him. Other than the nasty chemical drenched hair and face slathered with makeup… he assumed she looked decently pretty, don't get him wrong… but fuck, he wasn't the one to go hire prostitutes. That $500 he set down was money to have her buy a semi decent dress for the birthday event of one of his directors, not to pay her for her 'services.' Shit, he was going to leave his credit card there in case it wasn't enough but he thought it would be a bad decision. To top it all off, when he saw her lying in the bed naked, he thought she wanted him to… ugh. The only damn time he tried something new.

The way she acted should've been a major red flag. But from all the damn stress and shit he had gone through the past couple months, he barely knew what's real and what's not. But damn, no matter how he did it or what he blamed, the truth is that he slept with a prostitute. A sex slave—a young one.

Daryl felt the bile rise up into his throat—he hated this feeling. He wanted to apologize but what could he possibly do now? She disappeared without a word after the returned from speaking with security down at the desk to make sure that faggot was gone. He was going to help her… somehow. The way that faggot treated her—it was no way to treat a woman. But fuck. He was shit of out luck.

He supposed it was just fate that she might be destined to lead this sort of life for the rest of her days, and there's not a damn thing he could do about it. There was nothing he could do now but to move on…

It was a new kind of low.

-0-

She still felt sore beyond belief, but it was a whole lot more tolerable than before. Beth didn't know if by God's grace Jeff didn't show his face around lately or if her last patron actually gave him enough money to burn for nearly a week. Then again, she knew his schedule like the back of her hand—it was how she avoided him and survived his brutality.

"You okay, sugar?" a concerned voice called out to her from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yeah, just putting on some makeup," Beth quickly applied concealer and foundation on her face and did the best she could to hide the multicolored bruises. Most of them were old bruises, but there ones one prominent one fading from a dark bluish hue to yellow. It was the one that Jeff so graciously gave her before he forced himself on her in the hotel. She hated him. Hated life. She couldn't even stand the sight of her reflection in the mirror

"Beth?" the owner of the voice, Karen called out again.

"Coming!" Beth snapped out of her thoughts and quickly rearranged the products back to their places and opened the door. "'Morning Karen," she grinned meekly.

"Oh sugar…" Karen pulled her closer as she examined her bruised face. "That bastard has no claim on you, Beth. Why do you keep putting up with this nonsense?"

"I have nowhere else to go Karen… and if I don't… he'll let everyone in my hometown know what I've been doing…" Beth looked away, unconvinced herself.

"They'll understand! I don't want you to suffer anymore. I have some extra money saved up. Why don't you take it and just go? Out of the country?"

"Where am I going to go, Karen? I can only go so far before they find me again. For some damn reason they want to keep me in their web. And when they find me, they'll just beat me from an inch till death again. I don't want to feel that kind of pain again, Karen. I don't!"

"So the pain you feel when he rapes you is nothing?! Wake up, Beth!"

Their voices escalated higher and higher as the argument grew even more heated. Unbeknownst to them, a door from the hallway opened and soft footsteps pattered to them.

"Mommy… Auntie Bethy… too loud!" a small toddler with jet black hair and beautiful hazel eyes shrieked and started to bawl in his blue spiderman printed jammies.

Beth casted Karen an apologetic smile before rushing over to the toddler, gathering him up in her arms. "There, there Bubba. I'm sorry we woke you up, baby," she cooed into his small ear as she ruffled his messy hair. "How's about we go and get you some pancakes? You like pancakes don't you Bubba?"

The small child's large teary eyes lit up instantaneously, a large grin plastered across his chubby face. "Yeah!" He shouted and ran into his room, presumably going to dress for the event.

"He always calms down when you call him Bubba… and offer him pancakes…" Karen chuckled, albeit amused.

Beth shrugged, "I guess I have a way with kids. I hope to have some… eventually…"

_ 'When I get out of this situation… maybe then…'_

-0-

"Look brother… I got the situation settled with the idiot. Though it's true he ain't in good business, but if disclose this to the_ popos_, we'll be in trouble too." Merle was a tall, burley looking man. Scars marred his face, his teeth albeit yellow from decades of tobacco use and tattoos covered his body. Daryl wasn't too far off that himself. One would think the both of them would be in the dirty business—rowdy biker fellows or just redneck mobsters.

However, God had other plans for the two of them. Surprisingly enough, they run a respectable bodyguard and security business. Well, it started off just him, Merle, Rick and Shane—but they had expanded to a multimillion dollar company with clientele in the elite classes of society.

No matter what Merle did, Daryl couldn't stay angry at him. He was blood, and blood is always thicker than water.

Daryl casted Merle a disbelieving glare, "_Popos? _Haven't heard you say that in forever."

Merle smirked, "Well Darylena, guys like me gotta get in touch with our kids inside here." He pounded his chest and winked.

"Don't you mean to say, your 'inner-child'?" He glanced at his brother, who sputtered and a mock of hurt emotion adorned his face.

"Nah uh, baby bro. I say it how it is. Anyway, the popos- police, won't like us. They been sniffing on our tails since Shane slipped up that contract with them. Best bet, we go to their place and set things straight—the good ol' way. They won't call the police—they got a bounty on their heads too." He slammed a fist against his palm in front of his chest, a look of pure anticipation and glee played across his face.

Daryl wanted to put off that idea immediately—but it wasn't an _awful_ idea. It was a bad one, one he'll probably regret, but damn. He won't be the one to give up the opportunity to serve an asshole his plate of much deserved asskicking. "Fine. Don't do anything till I say so."

Merle grinned from ear to ear, pleased to hear his little brother's answer. "Will do, baby bro. Will do. He's at this address," he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Daryl.

Let the games begin.

...

It didn't take long for the brothers to pull in front of a bar in the _shadier_ side of town. There's the bad side, and there's the really, _really_ shady side. It was only three hours after noon, and already there were women in scantily clothes waving at them.

Ugh. He had a feeling he needed to burn his eyes to get rid of the scene before him—not the he could literally burn his eyes… or anything. He wasn't going to ever touch a prostitute again, not if he could help it. The thought of being able to punish the sorry excuse for a man for deceiving Merle and putting him in this predicament fueled him to look past the women and towards his destination.

Daryl stepped out of his vehicle and straightened out his suit. He stretched the muscles on the side of his neck by moving his head to the right, then left. With a huff, he loosened his shoulders and headed towards the entrance of the bar, with Merle in tow.

His hand barely gripped the paint chipped fake brass color door when a sudden sound flooded to his ears. A series of low thuds followed by a very high pitched screech. It sounded like—like flesh being pulverized. "Fuck is that?" Daryl whispered, not knowing if he hallucinated the sounds or if it were real.

"Nah, I heard it baby bro," Merle broke his stance behind him and cautiously headed toward the alleyway adjacent to the rundown bar.

Daryl released the handle and quickly followed his brother. Another screech, some voices and fabric tearing echoed down the alleyway—freezing both brothers in their steps. They paused, a grim and furious look spread across their face as they tossed a knowing look to each other.

Someone was getting assaulted. By the sounds of it, it didn't seem to be one victim.

_"No, don't hurt them please! It's not their fault, please… Please!"_

They strained their ears to catch the hopeless plea of a feminine voice. A crash of what sounded like a wooden chair shattering into segments pierced through the tension.

Not a second had passed before Daryl jolted into the alleyway, hellbent on going to make someone pay for hurting a woman. Merle was right behind him, both chasing the sounds of begging, and wood shattering.

The brothers broke into the small clearing, an area filled with black garbage bags, pallets and trash, just in time to see a man flinging a ratty looking chair at a hunched figure in the corner. There were two other men, one trapping a hysteric woman in his arms while his accomplice tore at her clothes.

The figure at the corner faltered on her knees, falling over onto the dirty ground with a cry. Seconds after the woman fell, a cry of a toddler echoed from the corner.

Two women, one child.

They were attacking the defenseless.

Daryl didn't know what provoked him more, the frightened cries of the toddler or the sneering laughter of the men. He saw red. He saw their ugly souls. He wanted their blood. Without much of a warning, Daryl leaped into action. Grabbing a fallen, leg segment of a chair he swung at the man who held another chair in the air, poised to hurl it at the defenseless woman and child.

He slammed the wooden leg against the assaulter's back, causing him to drop the chair and fall over. Daryl didn't stop there. He leaped forward, pinning the man by his throat against the floor with his grip as he landed blows to his face, relentlessly. Somewhere in his mind, he registered this face as familiar—he seen him before. It didn't matter.

In a matter of seconds, the small clearing turned into a chaotic mess with screeching, blood, yells and grunts of pain. Daryl's fists burned, but he didn't care. With a final punch to the man's nose, he went limp. In the background, he heard Merle fending off the two bigger males. He had one of them pinned, and the other rushed at him with what seemed like a crowbar.

Not a fucking chance, Daryl thought. He grabbed a nearby empty large garbage can and tossed it at the man behind Merle just before he was able to land a blow. Knocked off his feet, the man tried to get up but Merle didn't give him a chance. In those few seconds Daryl had given him, he had knocked out the bigger man and now, with a strong fist, he landed a final blow at the man on the ground.

Daryl and Merle panted, casting a few glances around to find all three men were knocked unconscious. "What the fuck was that?" he hissed at his older brother, who in returned shrugged. "Better make sure they ain't' dead."

"Mommy! Mommy!" the child wailed. In those few minutes, the woman who was pinned at the wall was soothing her toddler as she tried to help the smaller female onto her feet.

"Hush now baby. It's going to be okay," she then turned her attention to her friend. "Beth, Bethany!" She shook her small frame, hoping to illicit a response. But none came, she tried again, and this time a groan of pain echoed in the clearing.

"Oh God… Karen. Are you okay?" Her voice sounded weak and strained. "Bubba… Bubba?" She called out, reaching for the small toddler, who bawled in her arms as she embraced him on the floor.

Daryl gave the familiar looking man a final kick in the ribs before letting go. It annoyed him to no end that he couldn't remember where he saw these idiots. He casted a quick glance behind him, to make sure the women and child were conscious. He had to do a double take when he saw the mess of dirt covered blond hair. Despite his heart beating rapidly from the adrenaline in his veins, he felt his heart beat faster as recognition dawned onto him.

It was her. The girl from the hotel.

He held his breath as she lifted her head to meet his face, her pain filled eyes glistened with recognition as soon as her eyes met his. As if her whisper were cool breeze that passed through the small concrete covered clearing, it caressed his neck—causing him to shiver in response.

"Di… Dixon."

/

**JR**- Sorry it took so long folks, had a lot of catching up to do!

Thanks for the reviews everyone! It's a new, dark concept but there will be a happy ending.. maybe? I'm not sure if I want to take this as a long story or a medium length one… I'll decide later.

.

Thanks for reading guys, please review!


End file.
